


Just You Wait

by oystergrrl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gratuitous Musical Theater, Hamilton - Freeform, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, sorta cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oystergrrl/pseuds/oystergrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha takes the team to see <i>Hamilton</i>. She lives to regret it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just You Wait

**Author's Note:**

> I kept seeing these "Imagine your OTP seeing _Hamilton_ " things on Tumblr and decided to do a Stucky version, maybe involving Steve and his notions of patriotism, and, well, this happened instead.

Natasha can’t help but feel pretty pleased with herself. 

It had not been easy to get tickets to this strange musical about one of the American Founding Fathers, but after hearing so many raves, she had called in a favor to Pepper and gotten tickets for the team, albeit broken into groups of twos and threes scattered around the theater. It’s worth it; during the curtain call, she stands and applauds with the rest of the audience, not feeling the same swell of patriotism the rest of them seem to, but recognizing a damn fine piece of theater when she sees one. 

Steve and Bucky, seated to her left, however, seem flat-out mesmerized. 

Steve is standing there with a dazed expression on his face, clapping absentmindedly, as if he’s forgotten he has hands. 

“That was great,” he says. 

“Yeah,” Bucky replies. 

“Like, really great,” Steve says 

“Yeah!” Bucky repeats. 

Natasha preens.

She has no idea what she’s in for. 

**********

The first time it happens, Steve is on CNN talking about Donald Trump. 

“Captain Rogers,” the tanned, polished anchor begins. “Thank you for being with us tonight.”

Steve nods in acknowledgement.

“Before we get started, I have to ask: what are your thoughts on Trump taking such a dominant lead in this presidential campaign?”

Sitting next to Natasha in the Tower common room, Pepper goes pale. 

“No, no, no, no,” she says. “This was just supposed to be a discussion of the State of the Union. Something easy, something safe.”

On the screen, Steve is saying, “I think Mr. Trump is a bigot and a bully who has no business leading our country.”

“His popularity seems to indicate he’s hit a nerve among Americans,” the anchor says. “There is a huge section of the public who feels that he is speaking for them in a way that no one else is.”

“I can’t say that I think that reflects very well on the American people,” Steve says, and Natasha notices that his eyebrows are getting closer and closer together. 

“You have to admit, though,” the anchor says, “that his honesty can be refreshing in an arena frequently dominated by empty rhetoric and political correctness.”

“No,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “I do not.”

The anchor, seeming to finally clue in to the fact that she’s been poking a sleeping bear, clears her throat and shuffles the papers in her hand.

“Well,” she says. “Getting back to our main story-”

“No”, Steve cuts in, voice tight. “Don’t modulate the key then not debate with me.”

The anchor lapses into silence, momentarily taken aback, as Steve sits there with a look on his face that has sent many a HYDRA agent running in terror.

Pepper drops her head into her hands. Natasha snorts.

It’s the last time she’ll think it’s funny.

**********

Steve is out on a mission, and the rest of the team is working extraction. As they near the drop point, Natasha is puttering around the plane getting ready. She can hear Tony talking about something off to her left, but she can’t really say what it is, because Tony is usually talking, and she’s learned that listening is pretty much optional. It does catch her attention, though, when Bucky tenses up suddenly, because unlike Tony’s prattling, that means there’s a good chance danger in imminent. 

Before she, or anyone else for that matter, can take any action, Bucky has Tony up against the bulkhead wall, metal forearm at his throat, flesh hand over his mouth. Everyone goes very still. 

“Talk. Less.” Bucky growls.

It’s silent for a minute until, from behind Bucky’s hand, Tony says, “Hmiuh mo?”

“We sure as shit know what you’re against and what you’re for,” Bucky grumbles. “So when I take my hand away, do us all a favor and just shut the hell up, alright?”

Tony nods. Bucky lets him go and promptly jumps out of the open cargo bay doors. 

“Super soldiers do seem to have a flair for the dramatic, don’t they?” Bruce observes blandly.

Natasha sighs.

**********

“Come on, Buck!” Steve calls, throwing his bedroom door open. “Time for a run!”

Bucky remains asleep in Steve’s bed, or, more likely, lays there playing possum in hopes that Steve will go away. It’s a futile effort at best. 

While Natasha waits in the hall, Steve strides in and shakes Bucky by the shoulder. Bucky lets out a groan followed by some half-intelligible swearing and curls onto his side, away from the light coming in through the doorway. Steve exhales through his nose and stands there looking disapproving, then makes his way over to one of the windows.

“Rise up!” he sings as he snaps the shade open. “When you’re livin’ on your knees, you rise up…”

Bucky rolls over on his stomach and puts the pillow over his head. 

“Tell your brother that he’s gotta rise up...” 

SNAP! Another shade.

“Tell your Bucky that he’s gotta rise up…”

Bucky holds up his metal hand, middle finger extended.

“Rise up! Time to take a shot!”

The last shade flies open, filling the room with light. 

“Gonna rise up! Time to take a shot!”

Steve dances back over to Bucky’s bed. Natasha realizes that Bucky was not in any way kidding when he said Steve can’t dance. 

“It’s time to take a shot, time to take a shot! And I am not throwing away my, not throwing away my shot!”

On that last word, Steve reaches down and pops Bucky on the ass, then strolls out of the room whistling.

A moment later, Bucky launches his himself out of the bed and goes tearing down the hall after him. Natasha flattens herself to the wall and decides that from now on, she runs by herself. 

**********

Natasha feels a little sorry for Fury sometimes. Trying to wrangle a team of superheroes has got to feel like herding cats, more often than not, and this mission briefing is no exception.

First of all, everyone (besides Natasha) is late. It had been well into the wee hours of the morning when they had finally gotten back to the Tower the night before, and they all seem to be feeling it. Tony and Bruce stumble in together, eating some of Tony’s endless freeze-dried blueberries and being notably uncommunicative. Clint slumps in with a huge thermos of coffee and just kind of grunts at everybody. And Thor, well...

Let’s just say Norse demigods really need their rest.

Only Steve and Bucky seem to be anything approaching awake, but they also seem wholly disinterested in what Fury has to say. They keep doing that infuriating thing where they just look at each other and one starts laughing without the other actually having to speak.

Soulmates are stupid, Natasha grumbles to herself.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Fury huffs after being interrupted yet again by Bucky snorting at something no one else can identify. “We already have an agent on the inside. His name is -”

“HERCULES MULLIGAN!” Steve and Bucky shout in unison, then dissolve into giggles, grabbing onto each other to keep from falling out of their chairs.

Fury stands there looking nonplussed. Clint, who had, until that moment, seemed to be asleep in his chair, mutters, “Fucking _Hamilton_.”

Natasha gets up and leaves the room.

**********

Sam is nursing a beer, telling Natasha the story, and looking faintly traumatized.

“Steve wanted me to drop some things by his place for him to sign for a VA fundraiser,” he says. “I knew he wasn’t going to be there, but I have a key, so I just let myself in, thinking I’d be in and out real quick.”

“But then I hear this singing. 

“I follow it down the hall, and it seems like it’s coming from Bucky’s bathroom, but I’ve never heard him sing before, and certainly never like that. It’s all, like, passionate, and about how ‘the world has no right to my heart’ and ‘you forfeit your place in our bed’ and then there’s this Adele sort of part where he’s all, ‘when you were MIIIIIIIIIIINE’.”

Sam demonstrates the Adele part. Natasha bites her lip.

“And I’m right in front of the bathroom now, so I push open the door, and Bucky’s standing there in his boxers, with his hair twisted up in one of those towel-turban things, brushing his teeth like everything’s normal, And he turns and looks at me and goes, ‘Hey’.”

“So then we’re just standing there staring at each other, and it starts to get weird, so I close the door and start to walk back down the hall, but then, I hear, in this eerie whisper, ‘I hope that you… buuuurn.””

Sam shudders, shaking his head and sipping his beer. 

“One of the scariest things I’ve ever personally experienced.”

**********

Movie night is winding down. Natasha has just flipped back over to regular TV from Netflix, and, as is often the case when Steve was the last one to watch something, it’s on the History Channel. 

There’s a documentary about the Louisiana Purchase on, and a bespectacled academic in a tweed blazer is getting all starry-eyed about Thomas Jefferson.

“I don’t think it would be an overstatement to say that Jefferson was the greatest of the Founders,” he says, apparently in complete earnest.

“Boooo,” says Steve.

“Asshole,” says Bucky.

“Whaaaaat?” says Sam.

Natasha grabs a handful of unpopped kernels from the bottom of the popcorn bowl and flings them at him, feeling betrayed.

“Don’t encourage them!” she snaps.

**********  
Natasha and Steve are sitting at the Barnes-Rogers kitchen table, chatting over coffee, when Bucky comes in with an armload of groceries.

He deposits several bags on the kitchen island, then, with a flourish, deposits a six-pack of beer on the counter closest to Steve.

Steve’s face lights up. 

“Is that what I think it is?”

“You have enhanced eyesight and brain function,” Bucky says, crossing his arms and looking smug. “You tell me.”

Steve gets up and joins Bucky at the counter, lifting a bottle almost reverently from the carton.

“What am I missing?” Natasha asks.

“It’s Commerce Street Special Delivery IPA,” Steve says dreamily. “AKA the best beer ever. They only sell it for one month out of the year, and they only let you buy one six-pack at a time.”

“You want one? Bucky says with a grin.

“Hell, yeah!” Steve says, as he holds out his bottle so Bucky can flip off the lid.

“You’re drinking a beer now?” Natasha says, face scrunching in disgust. “You just had two cups of French roast. I can’t imagine those flavors are going to mesh all that well.”

“It’s Commerce Street Special Delivery,” Steve says, then takes a long, slow pull, sighing contentedly.

Bucky takes a swig of his own beer, then lifts it towards Steve. 

“Raise a glass to freedom,” he sings

Steve flushes a little and does that thing where he nods and looks down because he’s feeling bashful. Bucky threads a finger through Steve’s belt loop and pulls him in closer. They both have dopey smiles on their faces. 

“Something they will never take away,” Bucky continues, more quietly this time, and he leans in towards Steve. 

Natasha slips quietly out of the room. She’ll give them a pass on this one, she decides. 

But she is totally deleting the cast recording from their phones tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> The songs referenced here are, in order: “Farmer Refuted”; “Aaron Burr, Sir”; “My Shot”; “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)”; “Burn”; various songs featuring Thomas Jefferson; and “The Story of Tonight”.


End file.
